


Forever be His Little Secret

by undernightlight



Series: Gays in Space [37]
Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Episode: s12e05 M-Corp, Light Angst, M/M, Series 12, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28783239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernightlight/pseuds/undernightlight
Summary: Lister cannot see or hear him. Rimmer isn’t sure what exactly it is inside of his holographic body that compels him to speak, to confess what he thought he’d take to the grave, what he was very willing to take to the grave, and yet, he sat in their bunk room and spoke it anyway.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Series: Gays in Space [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/951465
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Forever be His Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

> getting back into modern rd and m-corp got to me

Lister had grown quieter over the two weeks, since this MCorp fiasco began, and Rimmer didn’t like it. He was used to Lister’s rambling nonsense and agitating humming and that god awful guitar, so without it, everything was rather quiet. He didn’t want to imagine what it felt like for Lister.

Lister did still talk though. He wasn’t sure if he was sensing his presence in some weird ESP kind of way or just speaking aloud randomly when he felt like it, but Rimmer liked it. He liked hearing his voice.

Perched on a stool, he stared at Lister, laying on his back on a mattress he couldn’t see, staring at the ceiling. The posters that Lister had pinned up there, one of a rock band he’d picked up on Mimas decades and decades ago, another he made, also decades old, of random magazine cutouts of houses and livestock and tropical locations, all in his head being his farm on Fiji, both gone to Lister now, and so while Rimmer looked up at a sheep with stilts drawn on with marker, he knew Lister saw nothing but the bulkheads.

“I know you can’t hear me,” Rimmer said. And despite what he said, he still paused, still waited for a reaction, still wondering if this was some long haul practical joke at his expense, but when nothing came, he continued on. “But you should know we’re still working on figuring this thing out, alright? We haven’t given up yet. We’ll sort this and then everything will be all tickety-boo once again. Back to the way things should be.”

Lister continued to stare at the ceiling bulkheads. He hadn’t seen him this despondent since those first few months when reality was still settling, when he was still getting used to being the only human left alive.

“We haven’t given up yet, and neither should you. I’ve seen that look before Lister and as your superior officer, I order you to stop it.” But nothing about Lister’s face changed. “You have that look on your face that says there isn’t hope, and I don’t like it.” His voice cracked. His eyes fell. His anxiety grew.

What if they couldn’t fix it? What if this was just how it was now? What if they could never interact again? He’d miss that, the talking and laughing and insulting. For some reason, he’d miss getting to complain to Lister that their bunk room always smelt like vindaloo and that he was finding poppadom crumbs in his bedsheets again because the goit was too lazy to make it up three steps. He’d miss all that for some reason.

Some reason, as if he didn’t know. He’d known for a very long time. The first time it really slapped him in the face was that psi-moon incident, where Lister said he loved him. Rimmer wanted it to be true, in every way, in a way more than what Lister was intending it to mean, and yet he let himself feel it, that something he'd been missing all his life. And then it was snatched away, cold and cruel. He wasn't even allowed unruly hope. 

More slaps to the face followed that of course, and to continue the analogy, it now felt like he had a constantly broken nose that would never heal. He was alright with that, in some weird masochist way; he wasn't hoping for anything anymore, but he really didn't mind the pain. If anything, it reminded him that he could still feel, that he was as alive as he could get, being dead.

He felt more alive in that moment, as Lister still lay blanken, looking up. He wanted to say more because he feared that if he didn’t, he may never be brave enough or get another chase to say it, to acknowledge it to Lister without Lister actually knowing, again.

“Lister...Dave.” The name felt odd, like he couldn’t get his mouth around it. “I just...I want to say…” Rimmer was struck with the realisation that he didn’t actually know what exactly it was that he wanted to say, or how to say it; feelings were not an expert field. He tried to stop thinking - which was difficult despite not being sure if he’d ever had a smart idea in his life at times - and to just like the words happen.

“We’ve known each other a long time now. Decades really, probably close to 40 I don’t know, which I can say, most definitely, is the longest connection I’ve ever had with anyone - with anything for that matter. And it wasn’t easy. You are, most of the time, absolutely unbearable, but those moments where you’re not, where you’re more than just tolerable...well, it’s hard to explain, since I don’t really understand it myself.

“You’re quite wonderful at times, you know that? I’m sure you think you’re a delight all the time I don’t know what I’m talking about, but sometimes...sometimes I catch myself smiling and dear god I sound like a sap but what can you do when you’re in love.”

There, he said it, out loud, to Lister’s face. It counted, even if Lister couldn’t hear him, it still counted. Then he said it again.

“I do love you, you know. I don’t, I mean, I’m not good at saying things, and with you,” and he shook his head as he spoke, “It’s that bit harder. This might do me good though, getting out into the open.” Rimmer snorted, “You’d probably say I’m being selfish, and maybe I am but who’s going to stop me? And nobody can say I’m wrong, which is a first. These days, I’ll take what I can get.”

Without thinking, or overthinking as he so often did, his sentences didn’t make much sense, at least he didn’t think so, but he had a feeling it was the best he was going to get. The sentiment was there, he thought, he hoped, not that it mattered since Lister couldn’t hear him. It was enough for him though.

He couldn’t continue staring at Lister staring at the ceiling, so he stood and left, hoping Kryten would have some news to cheer him up.

It was a little disconcerting being told there was an entire month of memories that you could no longer remember.

It was greatly disconcerting to have a 23 year old Lister around again. He looked the same, his body still as it was, but cheeky and teasing like he was as a young adult in a way he wasn’t quite anymore. Rimmer found him definitely more annoying at 23 than now, and was reminded, as they walked the corridor, of all those decades ago, before the accident and the radiation leak, of their z-shifts together, and how Lister would eat and smoke and flick his hollow cheeks, doing everything physically possible to annoy him. Lister was, unfortunately, very good at that, and so as they walked, Lister hummed Rastabilly Skank off tune.

“Will you please shut up?” Rimmer said, stopping and turning. Lister paused a moment, his singing and his steps, to look up at Rimmer, his brows furrowed and lips pouting in fake thought. And then a few seconds later, shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and continued.

Rimmer let a good number of paces form between them before he started walking again. Perhaps speaking his annoyance out loud had been a mistake, as Lister has switched from humming to singing, switching to the classic “Lunar City Seven.” The song annoyed Rimmer, for he only knew the first verse as that was all Lister ever sang, and he refused to listen to the rest of the song.

Unfortunately, Rimmer found himself following along with the words in his head, because despite hating the song, he hadn’t heard it in quite some time. It was appropriate to hear it now, he thought, with a young Lister and his trolley roaming the Red Dwarf halls; strong nostalgia washed over him as he watched Lister.

He fought it, but a smile came to his face. Lister was a mess of a human being but Rimmer still loved him, regardless of the very, very long list of faults. He had them too, so he supposed he was thankful Lister had put up with them all this time.

It gave Rimmer comfort that Lister would never know, that he would never dare speak the words out loud even if Lister was halfway across the ship, just in case someone ever heard. It was a secret he’d take to his grave - second grave - and he was alright with that, actually he preferred it that way. No one would ever know but himself, and that was the way it was meant to be, to forever be his little secret.


End file.
